Close Your Eyes And Write A Poem

Close your eyes and write a poem,

Because sights are beautiful

But god,

Look at the sounds.

 

Just once, write not about

The emerald hue of the leaves of that tree,

But how they rustle, some afraid, some boldly

Flirting with the wind

That caresses the canopy.

Let their viridian rhyme

Find tongue in your words.

 

Write not about how the silver rain

Falls like angelic tears

But how it pitter-patters;

Stilettoed elves dancing

To the baritone of heavenly lions.

Let their tiny feet tap

To the treble of your verses.

 

Write about chirpy chittering squirrels on a summer morning

Their shrill titter hopping on the stairs of a childish symphony,

Interspersed

With the shier, softer squeaks

From the tiny throats of whistling sparrows.

Let their merry music merge

With the leaves of your lyric.

 

Write about the gurgling rush of water

Splashing out of hose pipes, flowing

In turbulent gushes;

The soft peals of a thousand tiny bells

Quenching the sighing soil.

Let their petrichor vocalisations

Immortalise in your ink.

 

Write not about the orange flames of the campfire,

But how it crackles, searing through the skin of the night,

Whose pain howls through wolves,

How the fire only laughs, clapping on helpless wood

Which cracks to its fiery burning song.

Let those chuckling embers

Burn in your poetry.

 

For once, just for once,

See the world through your ears,

Let your eyes rest; close them

And write a poem.